Just Another Day
by Sojourner84
Summary: [one shot] Spike goes looking for an easy bounty and ends up with much more than he bargained for.


     **Just another Day**

The rundown, dilapidated, and abandoned hotel was the most obvious place for a low I.Q., desperate felon to hide. It was one of the last standing buildings in the district and the entire district was vacant. The outlaw had probably thought that this fact made the district a safe haven. This was a clear expression of his expansive cunning. What he had failed to realize was that any slight sign of life, was out of place in the exanimate surroundings.

            The staircase that lead up to a myriad of hallways and rooms was littered with recently emptied booze bottles, cigarette butts, half-smoked joints, and women's panty hose. Spike Spiegel used the muzzle of his handgun to lift some of this trash from the stairs in front of him.

            "A thong," he spoke into the small headset communicator piece.

            "What was that?" Jet's voice echoed into his ear.

            "I said....never mind. It's sad how much this guy has left just lying around."

            He threw the object dangling at the end of his gun, over the staircase railing.

            "Help me out here, Jet. Which floor?"

            "Ed can help!" A voice piped up over the line, "Let's see...hm."

            Spike envisioned Ed sitting at the computer, a grin of absolute bliss plastered to her face as she went through the motions of her web diving. Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag. It seemed to put him in a state of absolute calm.

            "Ed?" he spoke into the communicator.

            "One second please," her voice chimed.

            "Jet, how much was this bounty?" Spike asked.

            "Too embarrassingly low to mention. But, we need to eat, right?"

            Spike sighed and kicked a beer bottle down the staircase.

            "Oh, and as a heads up," Jet continued. "No one has seen Faye for the past hour."

            Spike cracked a cocky smile at this. "Really? We'll see...."

            "Floor 4!" Ed chirped over the communicator. "He has been making calls from there."

            "To where?" Spike asked.

            "Working on that. Ed needs more time."

            "Room number?" Spike asked.

            "Ed doesn't know. Do you know Spike-person?"

            "No Ed, that's why I asked you. Look, forget it. I'm getting bored."

            Spike made sure he had a full clip, and then made his way up the stairs, toward floor seven. There was a sound of a struggle coming from the open door that led into the fourth floor hallway. The crashing of furniture and dishware was apparent. A door smashed open and the sound of feet slamming down upon concrete came toward the exit where Spike stood. He was well hidden behind the door and he raised his weapon, waiting for whoever would come through it.

            A disheveled woman with distressed short blond hair and dark circles beneath her eyes, where the mascara had run, burst into the stairwell. She was wearing a short skirt and an unbuttoned blouse. She looked like the typical prostitute. She turned right into the end of Spike's gun and stopped.

            Spike held a finger to his lips and motioned for her to step to the side. She obeyed quickly.

            "Rodney Monagen. Is he here?" Spike whispered.

            "Are you going to shoot me?" Her voice quivered.

            "Is he here?" Spike asked again.

            "He's crazy. He tried to kill me. He was experimenting with this drug. I've never heard of it before. Devil's something."

            She looked scared.

            "Devil's Cry?" Spike asked

            "That's it. Are you going to shoot me?" She whined.

            "Jet," Spike spoke into his mouthpiece, "I'd like you to run a search on...excuse me. What's your name?" 

            "Bambi Nobuki," she answered.

            Spike repeated the name and Jet ran the search.

            "500,000. Prostitution and theft."

            Spike handcuffed Bambi to the railing in one quick movement. She blinked in surprise at her new circumstance.

            "Hey!" She got angry.

            "Sorry, a man has to eat."

            Spike stepped into the number 4 hallway with his gun drawn. The hallway was empty. The door the prostitute had run out from was the only one open.

            "Spike," Jet came in harshly. "Did I hear her correctly? Devil's Cry?"

            "Yes," Spike confirmed as he crept down the hall.

            "That drug is Red Eye on steroids. Our small fry bounty just became a suicide mission. Take the prostitute and get out. We'll at least have some dinner money."

            "No. Shut up," Spike ordered. "I'm going to do this."

            "Why are you so damn stubborn?"

            "It's just another day, Jet. Nothing new."

            There was silence over the line and Spike continued toward the door. The numbers were falling off the door, so it appeared to spell out the word "hell" as the numbers of room 43ll hung there. Spike took a deep breath and entered the room. He pivoted around, to try to shoot before he was shot at, but the room was empty. A T.V. was on in the corner, but the screen was full of snow. Broken chairs and glass littered the room.

            Spike stepped over the broken pieces carefully. There was a bedroom toward the back of the front area. All of his senses screamed at him as he headed for it. His bounty was in there, and more than likely hyped up on D.C.

            His foot came down on a small piece of glass. The sound it made seemed to shred the silence. He paused and waited for a reaction, but none came. Spike put a hand on the slightly cracked bedroom door. It was then he noticed the fresh blood on the door knob. He paused, then kicked the door open and brought up his gun.

            Again, there was nothing in the room. There was a puddle of blood on the ground near the bed. Spike stooped down to examine the blood. The second he did, he realized his error. His back was now to an unchecked closet to the right of the door.

            He went to stand quickly, but the closet door slammed into him, sending him to the ground. Rodney leapt on top of him and tried to strangle him. Spike grasped around for something to defend himself. His gun had been flung to the opposite side of the room. Spike's hand grazed over something sharp that sliced his palm open. He grasped it, despite the pain, and brought it up across Rodney's face. 

            Rodney cried out and let go of Spike's neck. Spike punched Rodney in the face pushed him off of himself. The pain increased in his hand and he looked at the object in his palm. A shard of glass. He threw the bloody piece to the ground and stared at Rodney, who was holding his face and howling like an animal. Spike noticed a blood stain on Rodney's shirt.

            "You're just like that slut! She stabbed me!"

            Rodney was a slinky looking man with bloodshot eyes. An effect of the D.C. His long brown hair was greasy and unwashed. He let go of his face. It was covered in blood from the wound that Spike had induced.

            Spike stood there, holding his bleeding hand and contemplating his next move.

            "You're one of those damn bounty hunters, aren't you?"

            Spike didn't answer. He was trying to calculate if he could get to his gun before Rodney could.

            "You'll never take me alive!" Rodney screamed.

            "With my luck," Spike said sarcastically.

            Rodney pulled out a hit of D.C. and waved it before Spike.

            "I'll tear you apart with my bare hands," he said darkly.

            Spike dove for his gun the instant that Rodney released the drug into his eye. Spike grabbed it and spun around, but Rodney was there, and kicked the weapon from his hand. Rodney threw a punch at Spike and Spike ducked. Rodney's fist went through the wall behind Spike. Spike threw his elbow into Rodney's injured side and Rodney stumbled back.

            "Son of a -----!" Rodney screamed as he came back at Spike. Spike stepped to the side and used Rodney's forward force to send him to the floor. Enraged, Rodney pulled a knife from his sleeve and thrust it at Spike's chest. Calmly, Spike dodged the blade, and caught Rodney's arm. He then kicked Rodney in the chest, sending him back to the ground, unconscious.

            Spike cracked his neck and smiled victoriously. "Jet, He's down. And you were worried."

            Rodney suddenly sat up with Spike's gun in hand. He laughed insanely and pulled the trigger. A shot was fired and Spike held his gut. He looked down and noticed he was unharmed. Rodney stared at him blankly, a stupid grin still upon his face. He then fell over dead. A hole the size of a golf ball in the side of his head.

            Spike looked to the door and saw Faye standing there, leaning against the door in a cocky, seductive way.

            "Sorry I'm late."

            "You're not even supposed to be here," Spike told her. "This was my bounty."

            "Not anymore," Faye smiled. "What a waste."

            "Looks like more bell peppers and beef tonight," Jet said over the communicator.

            "Yea!" came an elated cry from Ed............

...........See You Space Cowboy           


End file.
